She stared at me with her eyes wide open in her drunken stupor:  “Are you serious?”  “Yes.” She broke herself free from my supporting hand.  I had helped her up to the room upon receiving a hint from one of our hosts, something the other hostel mates were too kind to admit.  Noone particularly enjoys an obnoxiously drunk at their dinner table.  She got out of her exhausted outfit that reeked of sweat, Mayan liquor, and veiled vomit. The cinnamon concoction she had been sipping on the bus for her itchy throat was a lot stronger than she had anticipated. …

2009.  Bagga and I had just returned from a 3-day hike of Mount Rinjani.  Kranti Singh Bagga was my batchmate in college, and my housemate.  He had all the adventurous ideas, and I was the guy who’d always say yes.    The hike had been pretty amazing.  We saw lava pour down the cinder cone into a lake while having fried chicken on a not-too-distant peak.  The squad was two porters, one guide and the two of us… so you can guess, it was a luxurious hike.  In fact, just before we had summited Mt. Rinjani, the active cone erupted in…